The statement hung in the air. Cathy tensed instantly, not sure if she’d imagined the words or if they’d really been spoken. That voice! It couldn’t be. Stone? Here?
Excitement ripped through her, only to crash headlong into the wall of reality. If Stone was really here, then he could see her. Horror flooded her. He might already know the truth, or if he didn’t, he would soon figure it out.
No. This couldn’t be happening. She’d imagined the voice. After all, she’d hit her head pretty hard and she’d been out of it for a couple of days. That was it. She wasn’t in her right mind.
Someone moved into the room. She didn’t dare open her eyes, but she felt a presence—hispresence. A chair scraped against the floor, then he took her hand in his.
The contact was warm, gentle and oddly familiar. Perhaps because she’d imagined it a thousand times, she told herself. Over the past two years, as she relived their phone calls, she’d fantasized about him coming to meet her, about him taking her in his arms and telling her that he felt things for her he’d never felt for another woman. Foolish dreams, she thought, not quite able to believe this was really happening. Stone was here?
“Cathy?” he murmured. “Can you hear me? Mary, the night nurse, said you were awake. How are you feeling?”
She didn’t want to open her eyes. If she kept them closed, then he wasn’t real.
But he was. Shame filled her. For the deception and the lies, and for the truth he must now know about her. She wasn’t sure which would be worse. His contempt or his pity.
“Please go away,” she whispered.
“Not exactly the greeting I was hoping for. You could at least put a ‘hi’ in front of it. As in, ‘Hi, Stone. Nice to meet you. Now please go away.’”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “You’re laughing at me.”
“No, I’m trying to make us both feel a little better. Come on, try it. ‘Hi, Stone.’ How hard could it be?”
He had no idea, she thought, turning away from him. A single tear trickled down her temple and got lost in her hair. She moaned softly. Her hair. It wasn’t enough that she didn’t have the friends she’d told him, but she didn’t look like he thought, either. He was expecting a leggy blonde with a beauty-pageant figure. Instead, she was a dumpy, overweight pale woman with plain features and mousy brown hair.
“I thought you might like some company,” he said. “Am I wrong?”
“Not you,” she managed to answer as tears thickened her throat.
“I see.”
He released his hold on her hand. She was suddenly cold.
Silence filled the room. Finally he cleared his throat. “I thought we were friends.”
That got her attention. Involuntarily her head swung toward him, and she opened her eyes.
Stone Ward was really in her hospital room. She saw the outline of him in the shadows. She couldn’t make out individual features, but she saw he was a powerful man, tall with broad shoulders. His hair looked dark.
“How can you say that?” she asked. “You have to know the truth about me. About what I told you.” She sucked in a breath and caught at the hem of her sheets. “About the lies.” The last three words came out as a whisper.
He moved toward her, captured her hand and laced his fingers with hers. She felt warm again. Warm and comforted, not to mention confused. She squinted, wishing the room weren’t so dark so she could see him.
“None of that matters,” he told her.
“But—”
He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. “I mean it, Cathy. No distressing subjects for conversation. What matters is that you’re getting better. The rest of it can wait. How do you feel?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer the question. She felt lost and uncertain. Her entire world had shifted, and she couldn’t find her balance. Stone Ward was here, talking to her, holding her hand, acting as if she was important to him. He didn’t seem to care that she’d lied about who and what she was. But hehadto care. She’d misled him and—
“I don’t understand,” she said softly. “Why are you being so nice to me? You should hate me or at least despise me.” She blinked, trying to see him more clearly. “Or did you always know it wasn’t true? Were you laughing at me?”
The grip on her hand tightened. “Cathy, no. Don’t think like that. I didn’t know anything. But that’s all right. Don’t you see? It was never the places you went or what you looked like that made me want to talk to you on the phone. It was how we always had a good time together.”
She wanted to believe him. The edges of her brain felt fuzzy and she supposed it was the painkillers they’d given her. Suddenly she was too tired and out of it to argue. Later, when she could really think, she would find a way to make sense of all this. For now it was enough that he was here and she wasn’t alone. “All right. Thank you for understanding.”
“My pleasure. Now, how are you feeling?”
